


With a Woof and a Purr

by matchst_ck



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Bailey the Dog - Freeform, Creeper the Cat, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GGE2017, Kissing, Light Smut, M/M, Mickey and Ian should always be happy beans, One Shot, Romance, Roommates, Soft Beans, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, as always, soft enemies though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchst_ck/pseuds/matchst_ck
Summary: Ian looks up and locks eyes with one of the bluest pairs of peepers he’s ever seen. He remembers this guy now, Mickey Milkovich, the youngest of Mandy’s brothers. But damn, he’s grown into himself and is not the mucky kid Ian remembers running around the baseball field when they were little. He’s all grown up and good looking as shit and clearly—“Fuck’re you staring at kid? You wanna take a picture, it’ll fucking last longer?”--a complete asshole.---In which Mickey becomes Ian's inadvertent roommate, the cat and the dog get on better than the humans and our boys fall hard and fast. Eventually. There are some growing pains.





	With a Woof and a Purr

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koganphrancis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganphrancis/gifts).



> My GGE2017 fic for koganphrancis! I do hope you enjoy this and it comes close to what you requested :D This was my first time participating and I'm both equally excited and nervous. I do love the idea of Mickey and Ian having animals that they love, so this was a fab prompt that I hope I did justice :D
> 
> (Also, yes the title is a line pinched from the CatDog cartoon theme.)
> 
> Enjoy! I'd love to know what you think.

“What? What do you mean you’re moving?”

“It’s work, Ian. What do you want me to do?”

“But we just moved in Mandy--” Ian waves a hand around inviting a lick from the coal black mutt at his side.

“Yeah, I know Ian and I’m sorry to mess you about like this but my job’s moving to Anchorage and I’ve gotta go with it if I wanna keep my job.” She looks at him sharply, cutting him off before he can speak. “And I wanna keep my job Ian.”

“But, but--” And Ian knows he’s being a bit of a baby about this but he really does love this first floor apartment and it’s the only place he found on Craigslist that would take him and Bailey in. Dog friendly apartments, especially on the first floor with easy access outside were hard to come by. He sighs with defeat. “Anchorage huh? What, that’s like—Alaska, right?”

“It isn’t like Alaska Ian, it is Alaska.” Mandy smiles, stepping forward to press her lips to his cheek. “I’m sorry about this, I am. But there is a way you can stay here…” She breaks off, scratching her head stalling, as she watches Ian’s face light up with joy.

“There is?” He grins. “Whatever it is, I’ll take it!”

“Whoa there cowboy, you wanna hear what it is first?” Mandy grins at his infectious happiness. 

“Whatever! As long as Bailey and me get to stay here s’all good.”

“Well, my brother’s moving back to town and needs a place to live and I figured he could stay here and take over the rest of my half of the lease. I’ve spoken to the landlady and she’s cool with it.”

“Me too! Me too. Course I am, your brothers probably great. In fact I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire.”

“Yeah, house on fire, that’s what I’m worried about.” Mandy mumbles and Ian doesn’t quite catch it all. “But yeah Mi- he’s, he’s great. Really great, there’s just one slight problem. Teeny tiny really in the grand scheme of things.”

“Okaaay?” Ian furrows his brow, catching Bailey’s paws in his hands as the dog jumps up for a stroke. “Kay boy, kay. Walkies soon I promise. What’s the catch Mandy? He a homophobe?” 

“A homoph--?” Mandy laughs out loud, slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Oh god no. He—no never-mind. It’s just that he has a cat and I don’t know how this one--” she scratches her long nails into the thick fur around Bailey’s neck earning her a huff and lick of gratitude “-will cope with that.”

“Bailey?” Ian grins, scooping the (far too big for it) dog into his arms for a cuddle. Bailey starts thwacking his tail against Ian’s legs with utter joy, tongue cleaning the underside of Ian’s chin for all its worth. “Nah, he’s great with cats. When I found him years ago he’d been abandoned, living in a cardboard box. There were a couple of kittens with him and he was playing dad-dog for them. Was pretty cute. Couldn’t keep the cats and Bailey but I managed to rehome them and brought this guy home with me. He’ll be totally fine.” 

“That’s great. So… you’re good then? With my brother taking over the lease?” Mandy looks up at him from under her lashes. 

“Course! Anything as long as we get to stay. I’ll miss you but I love it here Mandy.”

“I’ll miss you too Ian.” She smiles at him softly. “Brilliant, that’s settled then. He’s moving in the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh cool, well that’s—wait, Mandy? What do you mean the day after tomorrow? Mandy!” Ian yells as he watches Mandy run off down the hall. 

***

Ian watches with interest as the Russian woman carries another heavy box into the apartment from the pick-up he can just about see through the front window. She’s hauled in most of the heavy stuff as far as Ian can tell and when he offered help she looked him up and down before mumbling something in Russian (at least Ian thinks it was Russian, he didn’t understand it at least and with the withering look she gave him, he’s not sure he wants to).

“Hey, Bailey stop that.” He tugs at the dog’s collar, pulling his nose out of one of the boxes blocking the hallway. “You’re so nosey,” he says at the same time as craning his neck to see if he can peek at what’s in the box himself. 

Mandy had failed to mention which of her many siblings was moving in. He’s heard about them over the past couple of months, even remembers a couple of them from around the neighbourhood they grew up in. He knows it’s a guy (it has to be a guy, Mandy’s made mention of the fact that she’s the only girl on many occasions _‘I couldn’t braid my hair ‘til I was fourteen but I could break a hand in three places with one hit by the time I was eight.’_ He’d kept his hands in his pockets for the rest of the day after that one) but he’s not sure which one because he can’t get a good glimpse of him and he doesn’t want to get caught staring at him through the blinds.

He’s seen a head of inky black hair passing boxes over to the mumbling Russian lady but not much more than that. The hallway is full now, half of the stuff shoved into Mandy’s old room as he hears the two of them now coming down the hallway.

“Is good that you move. Was bad situation, still living with fucking idiot. Good to be rid of h--”

“Okay, okay Svet. I get the point. You maybe wanna shut up about it now?” That inky black head comes grumbling into view.

Ian looks up and locks eyes with one of the bluest pairs of peepers he’s ever seen. He remembers this guy now, Mickey Milkovich, the youngest of Mandy’s brothers. But damn, he’s grown into himself and is not the mucky kid Ian remembers running around the baseball field when they were little. He’s all grown up and good looking as shit and clearly—

“Fuck’re you staring at kid? You wanna take a picture, it’ll fucking last longer?”

\--a complete asshole. 

“Er, right.” Ian steps forward, fully intending on being the bigger man here. Not just size wise (though he keeps that thought to himself). He sticks a hand out amiably, willing himself not to wither as Mickey looks at it like it just crept out of a swamp. “I’m Ian. Ian Gallagher.”

“Yeah, yeah. Mandy told me. Yo! Creeper! Get in here.” Mickey shouts as he wanders back to the door, totally ignoring Ian’s hand. 

He feels like an idiot until the woman – Svet, takes his hand in her strong, soft grip and gives it a shake. “I would apologise but this is how he is. Small, angry man. But he likes you.”

“Erm, really. Whatever makes you say that?” Ian looks at her dubiously. 

“Red spots. I just know.” Svet grins and Ian is utterly confused by what that means. “I am Svetlana. Friend of angry man. He is Mickey.”

“Yeah I, I kind of know him from around the neighbourhood. Who’s Creeper though?” Ian questions.

She doesn’t have chance to answer before Mickey’s coming back in and closing the door behind him. Ian watches as a chubby, ginger tabby cat wanders in ahead of Mickey, paws carefully taking stock of every bit of floor and furniture around. Bailey lets out a great woof before he paws his way over to the cat. 

“Bailey be gentle with the--” 

“That dog better not--”

Mickey and Ian shout at the same time but there’s no need to panic and they both fall silent quickly when Bailey lays himself flat on the floor in front of the cat. They watch as Creeper sits back on his furry butt, eyes Ian’s dog thoroughly before he leans forward and sniffs around Bailey’s snout. A (gentle, Ian’s happy to see it’s gentle) cat paw to the face later and Bailey’s huffing, a happy sound as Creeper decides that’s enough meeting for one day because he completely ignores Ian and heads into what is now Mickey’s room. 

“How does he know which room is yours?” Ian questions, not realising he’s said it out loud.

“Because he’s not an idiot, that’s why.” Mickey scoffs as he heads past Ian. He pauses right in front of Bailey who sits up, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Ian watches clearly surprised when Mickey raises tattooed hands (and those tattoo’s might just be inappropriate if they weren’t kind of hot) and drops them really gently to Bailey’s head. He rubs his short fingers into that soft, scruffy fur atop his head as Bailey snuffles with pleasure. “Cute dog Gallagher.”

And with that, he’s gone.

“See, he likes you.” Svetlana grins.

*** 

They fight. A lot.

Well, it’s not really fighting which Ian is grateful for (he knows Mickey could probably give him a mean black eye and he doesn’t want to be in a position where he has to return the favour because, you know, adulting) but they argue about everything.

**Everything.**

_‘You want to get your lanky ass out of the kitchen Gallagher? I’d like to eat sometime today.’_

_‘Will you turn this shit off, there’s only so many times a week a man can watch you get a boner for Seagal Mickey.’_

_‘What is this pop trash? Turn it off, my ears are starting to bleed.’_ (Ian had danced around the front room for twenty minutes after that while Rihanna blared and Mickey pretended to hang himself in a corner).

_‘Van double Damme Mickey.’_

_‘Nah, fuck Van Damme. Twice.’_

Fighting aside, Ian quickly realises that they sit to eat dinner together pretty much every night Ian isn’t out saving lives and Mickey isn’t staying late at the accountancy office (the man was amazing with numbers, who knew, but it made sense). They’re both sitting on the couch, their plates of homemade lasagne have been demolished and Ian is tickled pink to see Mickey pat his stomach, pleased and full. The only thing taking up the space between them is Bailey, curled on the couch cushion snoring away with a happy looking Creeper laid out on top of him.

“Give me your plate Mick.” Ian holds his hand out, fingers wiggling. He watches as Mickey hesitates before he hands his plate over.

“I’ll do the washing up.” Mickey belches.

Ian’s going to take that as a thank you.

He’s stood by the fridge scraping the remnants off their plates into the trash before he drops them into the sink when he notices the new scrap of paper stuck under the Ron Weasley fridge magnet Debbie had bought him for his last birthday. It contains some really neat scribbles and he finds himself asking before he finishes reading.

“Hey Mickey, what’s this?” 

“Aint got eyes in the back of my head gingerbread, you wanna clarify what the fuck you’re talking about?” Mickey gripes back but Ian’s starting to be able to fish out the fondness in it (at least, he hopes he is).

“This thing on the fridge. Say’s _emergency only_.” He watches Mickey get up off the couch and make his way into the kitchen and head straight to the sink.

“S’exactly what it is. My contact details, you know.” Mickey turns the faucet on and holds his fingers under it while the water gets hot. He grabs a sponge, soaps it up and starts scrubbing. 

“Oh.” Ian nods even though Mickey can’t see him. “Should probably put my deets up too huh?” He watches as Mickey’s shoulders stiffen just a touch before he relaxes with a shrug. 

“Whatever Gallagher.” He mumbles.

Ian grabs the pen off the counter by the fridge, tapping it against the side for a second or two before he’s interrupted by Mickey.

“Probably a good idea. Y’know, just in case something happens with Bailey when you’re out or something.” Mickey’s quiet but it makes Ian smile. As Ian clicks the pen to start scrawling his details just under Mickey’s, he turns and catches the red creeping up Mickey’s face. 

***

Ian’s had what feels like the longest day at work. A three car pile-up wasn’t something he wanted to hear over the radio in the cab of the ambulance but it’s what they’d been called out to and thankfully they’d managed to get the injured patched up enough to get them blue lighted to the hospital. Ian had done all he could and he was proud of that. It was down to the doctors now. 

He wanders into the apartment, shoving the door open with a sigh and barely has chance to drop his pack down before Bailey comes shuffling up, tail wagging ten to the dozen as he nuzzles into Ian’s open hands.

“Hey boy, hey hey. I missed you too.” He drops to his knees, hugs his dog to himself as he rubs his face into the scruff of soft fur around Bailey’s neck. “I know boy. I know you wanna go for a walk. Just- just gimme a minute. So tired.” He mumbles.

He hears the meow before he sees Creeper come slinking around the corner and that’s when he sees the head of silky hair pop up over the back of the couch. All he can see are Mickey’s bleary eyes and dishevelled hair that tells him he was definitely asleep probably not moments ago. 

“Long day?” Mickey enquires, arms stretching up as he cracks his neck, sighing pleasurably. 

“Yeah. The longest.” Ian huffs and watches as the hair hanging over his forehead flutters. He should probably get a haircut soon. Bailey snuffs at his neck, patiently impatient. “Okay, c’mon boy.” He stands grabbing the lead from the key stand by the door but before he can even lean down to attach the clip he feels a sleep warm hand slide over the top of his. 

“I got this man. Could do with some fresh air.” Mickey tugs the lead from Ian’s grip gently and leans down to attach it to Bailey’s collar. He rubs the dog’s head softly before he straightens back up. “You should run a bath or something, relax.” Mickey isn’t quite looking him in the eyes as Ian stares at him openly. 

Mickey whistles at Creeper as he shoves his feet into his sneakers. “Hey Creeps! Be good. C’mon boy.” He ushers Bailey out the door and Ian just stands there, shocked and confused and…

…happy. 

His chest feels warm as Creeper pads over to him and rubs against his legs. “Rrroowww.”

***

Ian’s cleaning (as defined by the cleaning rota he and Mickey came up with, surprisingly with very little difficulty) when he finds the stick with the fluffy feather things attached to it tucked down by the side of the television. He doesn’t realise what it is until he tugs it out and faster than he ever thought him capable, Creeper comes running into the living room staring at the feathery thing with a look of concentration Ian’s never seen on the animal before. 

Bailey lifts his head, takes one unimpressed look at the stick before he decides this definitely isn’t worth his time and he goes back to sleep, half hanging out of his dog basket. 

Ian looks at the feathery thing and quickly realises it’s a cat toy, remembers he’s seen Mickey with it before when’s he’s not shut the door of his bedroom. He figures Mickey must have been playing with Creeper in the living space while he was out. He’s not at all bothered by it, wouldn’t mind if Mickey wanted to play out here with the cat when he was in. He roughhouses with Bailey whenever the dog is up for a play session, Mickey should have the same opportunity. 

He realises he’s been stood stationary for too long when a loud grumble comes from the cat at his feet. 

“Sorry Creeper. Here, lemme see if I can do this.” Ian bites his tongue in concentration as he starts wiggling the toy around on the floor, stifling his chuckles as he watches Creeper press his large body to the ground, butt wiggling as he pounces for it. 

They play chase for a good while, Ian tugging the toy up into the air a little so Creeper will jump up to try and catch it between his paws. He grips it in his teeth on a few occasions and Ian’s impressed by how strong this cat’s jaw is, he has to prise the toy away to keep playing. He’s backing up and around the living room, having so much fun with Creeper chasing the feathers that he doesn’t realise how close he is to the couch. The back of his knees hit the couch cushions and it upends him and he ends up sprawled on the furniture, cat toy forgotten. 

He barely has chance to right himself and sit up before Creeper jumps up into his lap. He stills, waiting for the cat’s next move. Creeper hasn’t ever come to him before for pets, will simply make do with rubbing up against his legs sometimes when he’s in the kitchen, or brushing his arm on the way up onto the back of the couch where he sometimes likes to snooze. 

Ian lifts his hand, slow but steady as he brings it over with his palm open to stroke the cat. Before he’s close Creeper hisses, backing up and arching away but not leaving Ian’s lap. Ian can see the cat giving him the squint eye, teeth bared a little in what Ian clearly understands as a move to back off. He moves his hand away, waiting a few beats before he tries a new approach. Hand down and fingers loose but not moving, he moves his hand up towards Creeper’s nose for a sniff hoping that he doesn’t get nipped.

Creeper side eyes him but doesn’t protest and when Ian’s about there, Creeper presses forwards and give him a few exploratory sniffs. Ian smiles. Progress! He opens his fingers up slowly, carefully. Creeper’s watching him closely but he’s not protesting and it takes a good minute but Ian eventually manages to sink his fingers into that soft ginger fur around the cat’s neck. He gives him a few good scratches and watches pleased as punch when Creeper’s eyes close and he turns his head to the side and presses into Ian’s fingers. Ian leans forward, listening for what he thinks he can hear.

Creeper’s purring and Ian’s ecstatic. 

He can’t resist, doesn’t stop himself by thinking first and presses a kiss to the furry space above Creeper’s nose. The cat immediately opens his eyes, growls and leaps from Ian’s lap and over the back of the couch. Ian turns to watch him, check he’s okay but ends up jumping halfway off the couch seat when he sees Mickey stood directly behind him, wide grin on his face.

“Jesus Mickey! You scared the life out of me.” Ian swallows, breathing deeply. “How long’ve you been stood there?”

“Long enough.” Mickey just laughs and shakes his head. “Kiss him again and he’ll scratch your eyes out!” 

***

The heat of July is sweltering and Ian’s trying to cool himself down on the couch to no avail. The window is open and he’s wearing the bare minimum he can so as not to scare his roommate when he gets home. He’s thinking about Mickey, how he’s coping with the heat at the office, how the sweat might be trailing down from his—he shakes his head gently as he feels a warm pleasant thrum running through him that he refuses to address (until he’s in the dark of his room at night when his hands can wander safely). The heat is making him sleepy and he can’t seem to help it when his eyes start drifting closed. 

He blinks a couple of times in vain as he tries to stay awake. He’s watching Creeper pad around the open window, light breeze ruffling his fur, he hears Bailey huff contentedly before he can’t fight it anymore and he drifts off to sleep.

*

He doesn’t know how long it is later that he starts to wake, as he slowly and muddily comes back to himself and swears he feels a warm weight on his cheek. When he opens his eyes though, the sun isn’t blaring quite as hard, giving the room a hazy glow and he’s fairly certain he sees a sweep of black hair heading back around the couch away from him and down the hallway. 

“Mickey?” He grumbles it as he clears his throat, sitting up to rub at his eyes with a closed, sweaty fist. 

“Uh, yeah. M’home.” Mickey backtracks from retreating to his room as he eyes Ian over the back of the couch. He’s looking a little shifty, thumb rubbing at his top lip that Ian is - butterflies-in-his-stomach - pleased to see is a little damp with sweat.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn that--” Ian shakes his head, not wanting to admit to something that he doesn’t know full well happened. 

“What?” Mickey’s looking at him now and it’s open and searching. 

“I just thought I felt you—I mean someone—no well, I mean you, uhm, touch my face.” Ian admits and it seems so obvious then, with the way Mickey’s eyes flicker around and barely make contact. The way the red creeps so obviously into those pale cheeks and his nostrils flare a little. Ian’s noticed before but never let himself put two and two together until now. 

“Ian look I need to--”

“Mickey do you--”

They speak at the same time but are both interrupted when Bailey wanders into the room with his nose determinedly stuck to the floor like a scruffy version of a bloodhound, following a path that leads to the open window. Bailey sits back on his hind legs and starts whimpering at the window, looking back at the guys and then back to the window. 

“S’up boy. You want out? It’s almost time for a walk.” Ian throws his legs off the couch, heads over to the dog and rubs his ears gently the way Bailey likes. The whimpering gets louder as Bailey starts pawing at the ground. Ian feels Mickey walk up behind them, turns to see him looking around.

“Hey where’s Creeper?” He asks and he’s starting to look a little worried now.

“Um, not sure Mick,” Ian blinks, looking around for the cat too, “the last time I saw him was before I fell asleep.” 

Mickey looks agitated now as he wanders back into the hallway and starts searching. Ian follows, eyes peeled for any signs of Creeper even though he’s not quite sure why Mickey’s starting to look more and more worried.

“What’s the matter Mickey?” Ian questions but Mickey’s headed into his room now, searching for the elusive animal.

“The window Ian! Creeper’s probably gone out the window!” Mickey’s angry and it shocks Ian at first, having not expected it.

“So what Mick? He goes out with you all the time when you’re--” He’s cut off sharply when Mickey comes stomping back into the living room looking red faced now but mostly with worry and anger.

“When I’m here Ian! When I’m fucking here, because otherwise he goes off and gets fucking lost! I love him but he’s an idiot when it comes to directions.” Mickey’s tugging at his hair now and Ian can’t help but let his anger bubble up a little.

He feels angry and guilty and can’t help himself.

“Well why the fuck didn’t you tell me! How am I meant to know your cat’s going to wander off if I open the window on a day as hot as the fucking sun!”

“You’re a fucking prick Gallagher, you know that?” Mickey yells at him and Ian opens his mouth to shout back at him but stops short when he sees Mickey’s eyes watering. He watches a tattooed hand come up at tug at that dark hair and his anger fades quicker than it came. 

“Mickey—Mick, look I’m sorry okay. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Look let’s um, let’s go out and see if we can find him. Maybe he’s just wandering around the neighbourhood, sunning himself on someone’s porch or something.” He steps forward slowly, reaches out to put a gentle hand on Mickey’s arm and sighs in relief when he’s not rebuffed.

“Yeah, yeah--” Mickey nods, looking around worried. “That’s a good idea.”

“Lemme grab Bailey’s lead, he might be able to help spot him you never know.”

And with that they’re both tugging their shoes on, Bailey hot on Ian’s heels but the dog is quiet now, sensing the tension in the air.

They follow each other down the street, the neighbourhood pretty quiet for such a sunny afternoon. Bailey’s sticking his nose into all the bushes and Mickey’s making that ‘cch, cch’ noise while calling Creeper’s name. The further down the street and away from the apartment they get, the more melancholy Mickey starts to look.

“Fuck sakes, he’s gone! Where the fuck is he.” And Ian can just tell from the way his voice cracks that Mickey’s about to start crying. He doesn’t stop himself by over thinking it, he slips Bailey’s lead over his wrist and uses his other hand to tug Mickey to him. He wraps his arms around him in a hug and is more than a little surprised when Mickey simply falls into his chest, arms finding their way around Ian’s waist. 

“Ssh, Mickey. Ssh, it’ll be okay. We’ll find him.” And Ian knows he shouldn’t but he says it anyway. “I promise.” 

“Ian, Ian what if he’s--” and Mickey cuts himself off with an aborted sob. Ian presses lips to that soft hair. 

“Don’t say that Mick, don’t even think like that. He’ll be okay. He’s a smart fucking cat, even if he’s not great with directions. He’ll be looking after himself.” He thinks hard, trying to come up with a solution. “Hey, hey does he have a chip?”

“Huh?” Mickey pulls his face away from Ian’s shirt, looks up at him with red but thankfully fairly dry eyes. “Chip?”

“Yeah like is he microchipped?” Ian asks and is startled when Mickey immediately pulls back, eyebrows raised and a smile starting to form ever so slightly.

“Fucking yes! Yes he does. That’s brilliant Ian. I’m going to call the vets, see if they’ve had any notification he’s been found.” He digs into his pocket to pull out his phone and is shocked almost to the point of dropping it when it rings in his hand. “Shit, no–one ever calls me. It might be about Creeper.” He doesn’t even take the time to check the caller ID before he swipes furiously at it to answer.

“Hello?”

Ian watches Mickey’s face animated with hope suddenly fall. His brows come together and the blotchy red skin around his eyes crinkles but not in a smile. 

“Fuck do you want?” Mickey snarls at the caller, eyes narrowed and Ian’s suddenly itching to hear the other side of the conversation. It’s frustrating to watch Mickey curl into himself while not knowing what’s going on. He watches Mickey’s eyes flick up to meet his for just a second before they drop and he turns his body away slightly. 

“What do you mean they called you? Fuck’re they calling you for, you’ve got nothing to--” Mickey pauses for a second, finger and thumb coming up to squeeze the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No, no I don’t want you to go down there—I don’t give a shit that you’re in town Ryan, I don’t need you to do that, just text me the fucking address of—what do you mean you’ll meet me there? Don’t bother--” Mickey pulls the phone away from his ear and Ian can see that the caller, this ‘Ryan’ has hung up. “Fucking prick.”

The phone beeps and Mickey checks the message as his fingers come up to worry the skin under his bottom lip. His eyes close briefly and he just stands there breathing for a few moments. Ian looks down to Bailey who’s just staring up at Mickey and whimpering quietly, concerned. Ian chances a hand on Mickey’s arm again, pressing it against the bare, damp skin.

“Hey,” he says it quietly, watches as Mickey’s eyes fly open and lock onto the hand on his arm. He doesn’t move away though and Ian might be imagining it, but he thinks he can feel Mickey press into the touch. He chances his luck as he slides said hand up Mickey’s arm, curling around the damp nape of his neck to give him a squeeze. “Everything okay?”

Mickey nods, not moving away from Ian’s hand in the slightest and Ian feels something warm like pride curl up in his stomach when he feels Mickey breathe and relax beneath his touch. “Yeah, yeah that was—Ryan.” He doesn’t explain further, sheepishly looks around for a second or two before focusing back on Ian. “Local veterinary surgery’s called him. Creeper’s been brought in and Ryan’s number was the contact number on the chip. He’s text me the address.”

Ian doesn’t push for any more information no matter how much he wants it. He simply squeezes Mickey’s neck again before his hand drops and he whistles to call Bailey over to his side again from where he’s been sniffing around Mickey’s jeans in concern. “Right, well let’s head over there now then.”

“Ian,” Mickey grimaces a little. “Ian, you don’t have to come with--”

“Course I do. _We_ do. Bailey’s eager to make sure Creeper’s okay.” Bailey huffs at the mention of his name, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he drools a little, clearly in agreement. “And I kinda miss the fluff ball too.” Ian smiles as Mickey’s lips tip up in a small smile.

“Kinda thinking that cat might like you a lot more than he lets on.” Mickey shakes his head but doesn’t protest when Ian and Bailey follow as he starts to walk away. Bailey bumps up against Mickey’s hip enough times that Mickey’s fingers brush over Ian’s wrist and palm gently – for a second it looks and feels as though they’re holding hands and Ian’s heart beats double time - as he moves to slip the lead from Ian’s hold, patting the dog on the head gratefully as they head to the surgery.

“You know what? I’m thinking he might. And I’m kinda hoping he’s not the only one.” Ian grins and watches as the red creeps into Mickey’s cheeks again. He really is starting to love that blush. 

***

They arrive at the surgery within twenty minutes of the call from Ryan and they head straight in, Mickey eagerly heading up to the reception desk to ask about his beloved cat. 

“I’m here to pick up my cat? I got a call to say he’d been brought in.” Mickey drums his fingers on the counter as the receptionist looks up at him, sighing.

“Does the cat have a name?” The receptionist asks with all the urgency of a sleeping tortoise. Ian watches as a vein in Mickey’s forehead starts to throb. The guy behind the desk unenthusiastically pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and doesn’t seem to understand the enormity of the situation, Ian wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up with a black eye.

“Yeah, Creeper. He’s got a microchip and you called my—you called someone to say he’d been brought in.” Mickey slams a fist against the counter, albeit as gently as one can do that kind of thing. Ian stifles a chuckle when the receptionist’s eyes widen and he starts clacking at his keyboard a little quicker.

“Ah yes, registered to a Mr Ryan Ito and a Mr Mickey Milkovich. We called the number first registered, a Mr Ito…” The receptionist looks up at Mickey then but before he can speak Ian hears a voice from behind him. 

“That’d be me.” Says the man now walking into the surgery with his tight trousers and his perfectly coiffed hair. Ian watches, mouth a little agape as this guy strolls up to the front desk and tugs off what look distinctly like designer shades. He stands far too close to Mickey for Ian’s liking (he’s delighted though when Mickey takes a determined step away from the guy). “I’m Mickey’s ex-boyfriend.”

And now Ian’s mouth is wide but he has the forethought to close it, quick sharp. Had he suspected? Yes, he’s not blind or that stupid but to have it confirmed is making his stomach churn a little.

“Emphasis on the ex.” Mickey snarls. “You want to out me to anybody else while we’re here? I’m sure there’s more people in the waiting room?”

“Right, right. Sorry Mickey.” 

(Ryan doesn’t sound sorry at all, Ian notes).

Ryan looks around then, eyes flicking over Ian, looking him up and down and Ian feels a little like he’s being judged. He probably is. Mickey turns to Ian and meets his eyes, just for a second before he looks away sighing, back to the front desk.

“Can I have my cat now? And someone needs to tell me how I can get the fucking information on the chip changed. Like fuck do I want to have to go through this shit again.” 

*

It isn’t long before Creeper is back in Mickey’s arms, Bailey’s huffing excitedly at the sight of his feline friend and they still have their hanger on in the form of the (admittedly beautiful) Ryan. Ian’s kind of starting to feel a little awkward about the whole situation considering his recently self-acknowledged feelings towards Mickey but he’s mostly calm.

In fact he’s very content, there might be nothing lovelier in a long time than seeing Mickey and Creeper cuddling up to each other. Creeper had basically been screaming the place down in the back of the surgery, not happy at all at being locked up in a pen and poked and prodded by strangers. The staff were more than happy to hand him back to Mickey. 

Mickey had practically teared up at the sight of the cat, picking him straight up and pressing his face into his fur. He kept kissing him, whispering _‘I missed you, furball’_ and getting licked in return. It was ridiculously sweet and Ian, as if he wasn’t already, was warmed all over by the sight. 

Before they left Mickey had demanded that the information on the chip be changed. He’d been reliably informed by reception that you could do it all online but Mickey wasn’t waiting around. The veterinary nurse had taken it upon herself to change the information for him since the receptionist hadn’t looked too keen on dealing with him ever again if he had the chance.

_“Ryan Ito, take him and his phone number off. He aint nothing to do with my cat.”_

_“Done sir.” It only took a couple of clicks which Mickey seemed pleased with. “Is there anyone else you might like to include as a second applicant?” She refrained from looking at Ian or Ryan, clearly understanding there was something going on here but not wanting to assume._

_Ian just watches as Mickey sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, teeth coming out to nibble at it gently as he thinks._

_“Yeah, yeah. Him.” He turns slightly, points at Ian with the freehand that isn’t clutching Creeper to him. “Ian. Ian Gallagher.”_

_Ian doesn’t even try to hide the smile on his face as he reels off his phone number happily._

They’re outside now and thankfully the sun has cooled as Bailey sits on his haunches. Ian tangles his fingers into the long hair atop his head and chuckles at the happy grumbles it elicits from his dog. He may be smiling but it’s a touch this side of uncomfortable as Mickey and Ryan start to argue at his side but Ian’s not even tempted to leave without Mickey.

“You never answered my calls Mickey. Couldn’t even get a fucking text back.” Ryan snorts, running a hand through that perfect hair and messing it up in evident frustration. 

“We broke up Ryan, hell would I answer your calls for? Think I made it quite fucking clear that I don’t wanna talk to you. Ever. Again.” Mickey spits as Creeper stares up at him.

“You’re such a fucking pussy Mickey, you didn’t even give me chance to explain.” Ryan tries but even Ian can see it’s a lost cause, Mickey’s eyebrows are up at his hairline now and he looks the angriest Ian’s ever seen him. 

“I’m a pussy? Fuck you Ito, you fucked around on me multiple goddamn times and there aint no explaining that away. You made your bed, you’re just pissed you have to lie it in by yourself now.” 

“So that’s it huh?” Ryan waves his hand between the two. “We’re done. I make a few mistakes and we’re done and you’ve moved on with that stupid fucking cat and what?” He looks over at Ian now, eyeing Bailey by his side. “You’re making a new family now?” 

Mickey looks back and forth between the two men surrounding him but it isn’t until Ryan steps forward and plaintively calls out Mickey’s name that Creeper hisses and flicks a paw out, claws shining as the intruder encroaches on his space.

“Jesus, I always hated that cat.” Ryan steps back in haste, missing the claws but swatting at Creeper in anger. 

Creeper startles and jumps out of Mickey’s arms, running double speed at Ian who just about manages to throw his arms out in time to catch the leaping cat who quickly cuddles in close to his chest before looking back at Ryan and hissing again. Bailey hops up on his back legs, front paws leaning against Ian’s hip to lick at the cat whose eyes close happily as he allows the affection for now. They’ve clearly missed each other. 

Ian’s shocked at the fact that Creeper’s come to him for comfort but the dopey smile he has for the cat ratchets up to beaming when he looks up and finds Mickey smiling softly at him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve made a new family now.”

None of them pay any attention when Ryan huffs and walks away.

*

“You want me to carry him for a bit Mick?” Ian offers as he watches Mickey shuffle Creeper higher up into his arms. They’ve not got far to walk back to the apartment and things are much less tense now Ryan’s gone but the walk is still a little slow with Mickey’s arm full of fluffy, happy, clingy cat. It’s nice though. 

“Nah man, I got him. I just--” Mickey kisses Creeper again, the very hint of a blush on his face. “You know.”

“I know, Mick.” Ian smiles. They’re quiet for a few houses before Ian asks the question that’s been burning away at the back of his throat since they left the surgery. “So, Ryan…”

He hears Mickey sigh, shoulders creeping up in tension but his walking partner doesn’t say anything. They pause for a second while Bailey pees on a nearby fence post. 

“You never told me you used to date the Southside version of Daniel Dae Kim, Mick.” Ian grins as Mickey whips his head around and raises one of those perfectly sculpted eyebrows so it’s bordering on touching his hairline. 

“What th— who the fuck is Daniel Dae Kim?” Mickey blurts, disturbing Creeper in his arms enough he gets a growl in return. 

“You know, that guy on Lost? Fucking loved that programme. Hot Chinese American guy?” Ian grins, wafting himself with a hand as if to cool himself down. 

“Fucking prick,” Mickey grins, lips parting in a rare toothy grin. Bailey’s huffing around their feet now, clearly wanting to join in on the fun. Mickey’s smile dims just a little as he speaks. “Just… just didn’t think it mattered. The gay part I mean. ‘sides when was I supposed to blurt it out, over fucking lasagne?” He rubs his nose with his free hand while Creeper wiggles in his arms. 

“Didn’t have to Mick, none of my business.” Ian says but Mickey scoffs as he eyes him, clearly disbelieving. “Seriously. Your choice who you come out to, it’s not something you have to do if you’re not comfortable. With anyone, ‘specially me.”

“Well, thanks.” Mickey nods as they turn the corner to their apartment where he drops Creeper to the ground as Ian lets Bailey off the lead. Mickey unlocks the front door and lets the animals in but pauses before Ian can follow. “But, you know it kinda is your business.”

“It’s not Mick, just because we live together--”

Ian doesn’t get much further than that and he’s not at all angry about it when Mickey’s fist comes out to grip his shirt, pulling him in close and pressing their lips together. He wastes no time in slipping his hands forward to grip Mickey’s hips and pull him closer as he deepens the kiss, tongue coming out to meet Mickey’s eagerly. Mickey releases his grip on Ian’s shirt to wrap his arms around Ian’s neck, pulling him in until there’s very little but a thin layer of shirt and sweat separating them. 

The kiss is touching just this side of dirty as Mickey sucks on Ian’s tongue wetly, eliciting a moan before they part, faces close enough that their noses are brushing gently and Ian realises he can see it now so clearly. Those ‘red spots’ Svetlana had told him about months ago now, there blooming over Mickey’s cheeks. _‘He likes you’_ she’d said. He grinned, so happy she was right. He presses his lips to Mickey’s again once, twice, soft and sweet.

“I like you, Mickey.” Ian states it so genuinely it makes Mickey look down, away for a second as if shy but he looks straight back at Ian when the redhead squeezes the softness of his hips. 

“I like you too Ian.” Mickey smiles, fingers stroking the hair at the nape of Ian’s neck. “But you do need to do your research. Daniel Dae Kim is hot but he’s also Korean American, and Lost was confusing as shit.”

Mickey grins as Ian’s eyes widen at the fact that Mickey’s played him. “So fucking sly Mick!” And he digs his fingers into the softness of Mickey’s side, tickling him as Mickey pushes him away with a hand to the stomach. They chase each other into the apartment, slamming the door shut on the way to prevent anymore animal escapes as they slip down the hallway, playfully wrestling each other to the floor. 

Ian isn’t at all surprised at how strong Mickey is and it takes a lot of his upper body strength to roll Mickey underneath him as he pins him to the floor with his hips. The play fighting has clearly excited them both as Mickey keens gently, pressing his hardness up to rut against Ian’s hip.

“Fuck, Ian.” He breathes and Ian can’t help but catch the noise with his lips. He licks at Mickey’s mouth, tongue brushing the back of his teeth as he rolls his hips down against Mickey to give him some pressure to rub himself against. 

He can hearing himself moaning into Mickey’s mouth before his brain catches up and registers the fact that this is all happening really fast. He just needs to check, make sure they’re on the same page. He pulls back slowly, hips coming to rest against Mickey’s own as he sighs gently. 

“Mick, is this—is this too soon? This is too soon isn’t it?” He grimaces slightly as Mickey’s eyebrows reprimand him, blue eyes blazing.

“Fuck you mean too soon? Ian, I’ve been thinking about this for months, I hope _you’ve_ been thinking about this for months--” Ian vehemently nods in agreement, making Mickey laugh out loud and god does Ian want to hear that every day. “I swear to god if we don’t get each other off right now and I have to go back to sad, lonely jerking off in the shower I’m going to--”

“Oh,” Ian grins, “that’s what you’ve been doing? I wondered why you always looked like you were doing a Justin Timberlake when you got out of the shower.”

“Come again?” Mickey looks up at him confused and Ian swallows any response he has about not coming for the first time yet. 

“Cry me a river?” Ian grins as Mickey’s face explodes with a gorgeous pink hue and he bursts into laughter. 

“You’re a fucking dick,” Mickey’s laugh subsides as he cups the back of Ian’s head with a warm hand. “C’mere.” He pulls Ian down into another languid kiss and its Ian this time that starts to press himself against the body beneath him. 

“You’re gonna make me come in my pants Mick, fuck.” Ian’s eyes start to squeeze shut as he feels the pressure build in the pit of his stomach, feels his balls tighten inside his boxers and he knows he isn’t going to last. 

“Me too Ian, me too. You’re so fucking hot.” Mickey presses his wet lips to Ian’s cheek, braces his feet against the floor as he lets his hands slip down to grab Ian’s ass in handfuls of denim so that they can essentially dry hump their way to an orgasm, the way they haven’t since they were both probably teenagers. 

“You’re beautiful Mick.” Ian breathes, practically whispering it into Mickey’s skin and that’s what does it for both of them in the end. 

They lay against each other breathing heavily as they come down from the high of their orgasms, heedless of the warm stickiness in their pants. Ian’s laying boneless on top of Mickey and he thinks he should probably move, but before he even has chance to Mickey wraps his arms around his body tightly, keeping Ian snug against him. 

“Next time Gallagher, we’re gonna have to wait to do this ‘til we find a soft surface,” Mickey grins, tiredly, “this floor is fucking murder on my back.”

Ian just laughs as he leans up enough to lock lips with his lover. 

Creeper and Bailey simply stare as their humans lay smooching on the floor. It’s been a hell of a day. 

***

_Creeper sniffs around his bowl for any leftover salmon flakes he might have missed. He gets them sometimes when his human is in a good mood and he’s got enough of that green stuff in the black thing he keeps in his pocket. He loves his human, he gives the best pets and treats him just how he should treat a cat._

_Like the boss, Creeper thinks as he gives his fluffy tail a lick when he feels an itch._

_He pokes around the floor, licks up a flake he’s missed pleased he’s found it. He pads his way silently down the hallway and nudges his human’s bedroom door open with his head. Neither human ever closes it properly knowing Creeper might want to wander in._

_He slinks over to the side of the bed and looks up where he sees intertwined hands hanging just over the side. He shuffles down the bed a bit so as not to disturb them, wiggles his butt before he leaps up and lands so carefully the duvet barely moves. He cautiously paws his way up the side of his human and gives him a sniff, purring quietly as he leans over to give the same sniff treatment to the other human in the bed. The one with the fur on his head that looks like Creeper’s own, the one that’s currently snuggled up very close to his human as they both sleep peacefully._

_His human is mumbling happily in his sleep and Creeper is pleased. He doesn’t do that sniffly thing anymore, when he used to press his face into Creeper’s fur and soggy it with wet eyes when they lived with that other horrible human. Creeper gave his human his best licks whenever it happened but he’s glad horrible human is gone, he used to poke Creeper and he didn’t like it._

_He used to always sleep by his human’s feet but he’s had a much nicer bed for the last few months. He hops down and back out of the bedroom, weaving his way down the hallway and past the tidy piles of stuff until he steps into the dog’s bed and curls himself against the warm tummy available to him. He hears a snuff, feels a sleepy lick to his head as they both settle down together._

_Creeper purrs, pleased and content._

**Author's Note:**

> Come share your cat/dog/any animal (I am also partial to lizards XD) on tumblr :D [@matchst-ck](https://matchst-ck.tumblr.com/)


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